


Lights Out

by Suzie_Shooter



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Peril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:42:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_Shooter/pseuds/Suzie_Shooter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So most of my head canon involving Yassen and Alex tends to end with them running off into the sunset together to live happily in the Greek islands. Except then I got to wondering how that would end up, so here they are, ten years on, Alex in his late twenties, Yassen in his late forties, having basically turned into an old married couple. Until a ghost from the past turns their world upside down and leaves them once more fighting for their lives...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lights Out

Alex swung the door to the beach shack closed and snapped the padlock into place, flipping the sign round that promised he'd be open again tomorrow morning. He pushed his hair out of his eyes, wondering how he'd managed to lose yet another pair of sunglasses. The early evening Greek sun was still hot, and he was looking forward to a cool shower.

There was an impatient blast of a car horn from the road above, and Alex smiled without looking. He swung a large canvas bag over his shoulder and ran across the stretch of beach to the steps leading up, taking them two at a time.

The black Merc was waiting at the kerb, top down and Yassen looking annoyingly crisp and cool behind the wheel. 

"Hey." Alex waved, and slung the bag into the back. It had canoe paddles sticking out of it, and Yassen grimaced.

"That had better not be covered in sand, I've just had this thing cleaned."

Alex swung his legs over the side and slithered into the front seat, not bothering with the door. "Have to clean it again then, won't you?" he grinned.

Yassen snorted, and the car took off in a squeal of tyres, weaving expertly between the scattering of stalls, carts and tourists along the quay.

From a building across the street, a camera was lowered, and the photographer scrolled through the shots that had been captured. Earlier shots showed Alex on the beach: directing giggling tourists in windsurfing lessons; stacking kayaks beside the hut; drinking a bottle of coke, sunglasses stuck into the sand next to him, leaning back against the wall and blissfully unaware he was being observed. Shots of the car, of its waiting driver, mostly of the back of his head as Yassen looked down towards the beach. Shots of Alex's arrival, of him getting in.

The last shot had been taken just before the car had accelerated away. It showed Alex leaning over in his seat to kiss Yassen hello, a fleeting moment, now frozen in time. The hand holding the camera paused for a second on the image, then stabbed a vicious finger at the power button and the screen went dark.

\--

The lounge bar of the sailing club was busy but not uncomfortably packed. Most visitors to the island used the public marina half a mile along the coast, but those who wanted to pay for a bit more exclusivity came here. Not that the facilities were much to write home about, the building was an ugly utilitarian concrete edifice typical of the local architecture, but people were willing to pay through the nose for a mooring closer to the main town and a bar that was stocked with more than cheap red wine and retsina.

The sailing club had been bought by Yassen when they'd arrived here and decided they wanted to stay. The locals knew him as Yanni - Greek enough to be unremarkable and far enough from his own name not to draw attention. They'd kept their heads down, both of them, and as the years had passed, they'd gradually become an accepted part of the community.

Most nights, Alex helped out on the bar and he was there now, slicing limes and only half-listening to the buzz of conversation around him. Yassen was across the room, feigning polite interest in the ramblings of a Dutch property magnate. The man persisted in extolling the apparently extensive list of reasons why his yacht was superior to every other boat in the marina and Yassen was just idly wondering if anyone else subject to the tedious conversation would like to pay him to kill him when the sound of smashing glass made him look up.

The occupants of the room cheered merrily in the traditional response to anyone dropping a glass in any bar ever, but Alex was staring across the room towards the door, white as a sheet, while unheeded shards of glass littered the tiles around his feet. Yassen turned to see what Alex was looking at, but couldn't identify anything out of the ordinary. He made his way over. 

By this time, Alex was sweeping up the glass and muttering apologies to the people around him. When he straightened up though, Yassen could see he was still pale, and he leaned on the end of bar to speak quietly.

"Alex? You okay?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, I just - dropped a glass, that's all. Sorry." Alex looked flustered, and Yassen put a hand over his, surprised to find it shaking. 

"You look like you've seen a ghost," he murmured. "What's wrong?"

Alex gave a brittle laugh. "That's closer than you know." He glanced at the people surrounding them, clearly eavesdropping with interest, and shook his head. "Just - thought I saw someone, that's all. Not possible though. Probably the heat. Ignore me." 

"I can take care of the bar, if you want to go home?" Yassen offered, still mildly worried. It wasn't like Alex to look this shaken up over nothing.

Alex shook his head, managed a smile. "Really. I'm fine."

"Okay. If you're sure." Yassen looked up at the clock, and leaned in closer. "We should close up early though. Get an early night, huh?"

This time Alex's smile was genuine, although he still looked troubled by something. Yassen had just started to walk away, when Alex called him back. "Hey." Yassen turned, looking enquiring, and Alex flushed awkwardly. "I love you," he whispered.

Yassen frowned, perplexed by Alex's mood. While they were open about their relationship, it wasn't as if either of them were naturally given to overly public displays of affection. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked.

Alex squirmed under his scrutiny. "I just - wanted to say it, you know?" he muttered. "I don't - say it enough, maybe."

Shrugging, Yassen stepped closer and kissed him on the mouth, his lips lingering for a good few seconds until Alex was smiling again.

This time when he turned away, Yassen found an elderly American woman blocking his path, looking indignant. 

"Disgusting!" 

Yassen sighed. "Can I help you?"

"I haven't paid to see that kind of revolting display young man. Fetch me the manager at once."

"Lady, I am the manager."

"Well, then I want to speak to the owner!"

Yassen spread his arms. "You're looking at him. If you don't like it, feel free to leave. Good luck finding another mooring. Oh, and I'm not sure if you're aware, but those hideous pearls you're wearing? Fakes."

He walked off, leaving her spluttering in his wake. Alex watched him go, hiding a smile. 

True to his word, in another hour Yassen had closed up the bar, leaving the two of them clearing away and wiping down. Alex yawned, and Yassen dug a bunch of keys out of his pocket as he switched off the lights. 

"Here. You lock up, I'll go bring the car round. Soon be home."

Alex smiled gratefully, taking the keys as Yassen disappeared out of the door. He unfastened the shutters and bolted them across the windows, then unlatched the outside doors and swung them closed. 

And stared.

Round the corner of the clubhouse, Yassen had just got into the driver's seat and put the key in the ignition when he heard Alex yelling his name. He flung himself back out of the car and dashed back to the entrance wondering what the hell had happened. 

As soon as he appeared, Alex hurled himself into his arms and Yassen held him tight, worried and confused and looking round quickly for any source of threat.

"Alex? What is it? What's wrong?" 

Finally getting a hold of himself and looking faintly embarrassed, Alex pointed to the club house. On the door, hidden from view until he'd pulled it shut, someone had painted the large, stencilled shape of a scorpion.

Yassen stared at it in silence for a moment, then shook his head. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Are you sure about that?" Alex demanded, sounding more than a little freaked out.

"Coincidence. That's all."

"Since when do coincidences happen to us?" Alex asked bitterly. Yassen put an arm back round him.

"Hey, come on. It's just kids, that's all. I chased a couple out of the boatyard earlier, bit of graffiti’s probably their idea of revenge."

"Yesterday I would have agreed with you. I just - " Alex tailed off, and Yassen suddenly remembered his odd behaviour in the bar.

"Alex? Who was it you thought you saw, earlier?"

Alex hesitated, unwilling to voice his thoughts in case Yassen thought he was cracking up. It was _so_ impossible, and yet, for a second, he'd been so sure. Making his mind up, Alex opened his mouth to tell him, then stopped as they both heard the sound of a car starting up.

"Isn't that - ?"

Yassen looked startled. "Shit, I left the keys in - " 

His words were lost, as in the next instant the roar of a huge explosion shook the ground they were standing on, and a blast of heat almost knocked them off their feet. 

Grabbing each other for support, they stared at each other in shock.

"What the fuck?" Wild-eyed, Alex shook his head frantically. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." Yassen looked grim. "But I think you're right. Coincidences are looking less and less likely."

They hurried towards the blaze, realising the extent to which they'd been protected by the corner of the building. The remains of Yassen's car was burning fiercely, too hot for them to get close. The charred remains of a body was rapidly disintegrating in the front seat, and Alex turned his face away, sickened by the smell. 

"Who - ?"

"I don't know." Yassen looked around, and spotted a figure cowering by the main gates. "Hey! You!" He ran over, expecting to have to give chase, but when he got there found it was just a boy, cringing away from him.

"Who are you? Who was in the car?" Yassen demanded roughly, then softened his tone as he recognised one of the teenagers he'd chased away earlier. An awful suspicion was filling his mind. "Was that your friend in there?"

The boy nodded, shocked sobs starting to burst out of him. "We didn't mean anything. We was just going to take it for a ride, honest. Oh God, he's dead, he's dead, oh _fuck_." He dissolved into horrified tears, and Yassen left him crouching helplessly on the grass, walking slowly back to Alex. In the distance, the clanging of the town's single fire engine suggested the explosion had been noticed.

Without speaking, Alex reached out and dug his fingers into the material of Yassen's shirt, clenching his hands into fists either side of his waist to hold him close.

"Alex?" 

"That could have been you," Alex said through gritted teeth. "Fucking hell Yassen, that was meant for you."

Yassen settled his arms around him and sighed. "If you hadn't yelled - yeah. A second later I'd have been toast." He felt Alex shudder, and hugged him tighter. "And I hate to say it, but in the circumstances I think it needs to be said. It could have been both of us." Alex looked up and Yassen held his gaze impassively. "Most nights we leave together. No way anyone setting that thing could guarantee you wouldn't be with me."

Alex took this in, and looked like he was going to throw up.

They were prevented from further discussion by the arrival of the fire engine, and shortly after that the island's lone policeman. A frequent resident of the sailing club's bar with a magically self-settling tab, it meant the questions were a lot less awkward than they might have been, but it was still a couple of hours before Yassen and Alex were able to leave. 

The fire had been put out, the surviving would-be joyrider escorted back to his family and the assembled crowd dispersed again, leaving them alone on the road outside the gate.

"Guess we walk," Yassen said. Neither had felt like asking for a lift with anyone, despite the fact they were both feeling drained and tired by now. They set out along the dusty road, glad of the cool night air. 

"You need to tell me, you know," Yassen said quietly, after they'd been walking for a few minutes in silence. "Who was it you thought you saw, Alex?"

"It's not possible. But - for a second - " Alex sighed. "It was Ian. My uncle." Yassen stopped walking, and Alex looked up at him pleadingly. "But it couldn't be, could it? I mean - he's dead. You - well." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. It wasn't the easiest of topics to bring up. Yassen was still silent, and Alex was getting increasingly agitated. "Yassen?" he prompted.

Yassen shook his head slowly, looking considering. "I can't - swear to it."

"What?" Alex stared at him in disbelief. "But you - you killed him," he said awkwardly. 

Yassen sighed. "I shot him, yes. But - he was in a car at the time. I was close enough to identify him, close enough to know I hit him. But afterwards - well, Sayle's people took care of the body. At the time I had no reason to suppose I hadn't killed him, but if I had to swear to it - well. I'm just saying, technically, I never saw the body."

Alex processed this, feeling increasingly sick. "I went to the funeral. Are you saying MI6 buried an empty casket?"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Jesus." Alex started walking again and Yassen followed him, a pace or two behind. They didn't speak again all the way into town, until they reached their apartment building. 

Opening the door with a wary caution, Yassen did a careful walk-through of the flat before letting Alex in behind him.

"You think he'll try again," Alex said flatly, dropping onto the sofa. 

"It's possible." Yassen sat next to him, pinching his eyes closed tiredly. "And we don't know it's Ian."

"It _was_ him I saw. I'm convinced now. Looked older, obviously, but - yeah." Alex sighed.

"Doesn't mean he's the one that tried to kill us," Yassen pointed out. "Why would he want to hurt you, anyway? I mean, me I get, but you? It doesn't make sense."

"I don't know." Alex sounded miserable, and Yassen shifted closer, putting a protective arm round him.

"It'll be okay."

"Promise?" Alex said, muffled by the fact his face was buried in Yassen's neck.

"Promise." Yassen kissed him on the side of his head, and Alex laughed, sitting up again and taking a deep breath.

"So, didn't somebody mention an early night?" he asked.

Yassen smiled. "Not very early any more. Still - " he gave Alex a considering look. "You sure you're in the mood?"

Alex nodded. "I nearly lost you tonight. I - kinda need you right now."

"Okay." Yassen kissed him, smiling again at the fervour with which Alex kissed back. "No argument here."

They moved into the bedroom, shedding clothes as they went and pulled each other down onto the bed, still kissing fiercely hard. 

As soon as he was naked, Alex wrapped his legs around Yassen's hips, swollen cock pressed up against his stomach. He was on his back, Yassen's weight bearing him down, could feel Yassen's erection nudging against his buttocks. 

Alex pushed his hands into Yassen's hair, fingertips grazing his scalp, pulling him down for another kiss. He felt desperate, reckless, like he wanted Yassen to just take him like this, no time to lose, regardless of how much it might hurt. 

_"Alex."_ Yassen's mouth was travelling down his throat, his chest, kissing and biting. He slid his hands underneath Alex's body and raked his nails unexpectedly down Alex's back, making him buck up against him in sharp, moaning approval.

"Fuck." Alex arched into his touch as Yassen did it again, red lines of bright pain across his skin that he knew would leave marks. "Please." He was panting now, his cock painfully hard, leaving smears of pre-come on his belly. 

"Please what?" Yassen grinned without looking up, pinched one of Alex's nipples between hard lips.

"Take me," Alex pleaded, half-laughing. 

"Such impatience," Yassen teased, shaking his head. "No finesse."

"I'm going to finesse all over your face in a minute if you don't hurry up," Alex told him, the words ending in a gasp as Yassen's nails dragged across the small of his back, making him jerk up against Yassen's body as if he'd been electrocuted. "Christ, _please_."

Yassen disentangled himself from Alex's legs and sat up. "Have we got any lube in here?"

Alex made a grab for him. "It's in the bathroom. Come back. I'll cope."

"Last time we did that, you complained for a week." Yassen stood up and slapped Alex on the arse as he sprawled forward on the bed trying to catch him.

"Hey!" Alex buried his face in the duvet, muffling his laughter. "Not fair."

Yassen was back moments later, but before Alex could roll over he'd climbed on top of him and sat down firmly on the back of Alex's legs.

"Oi!" 

"Making it easy for me, huh?" Yassen smacked him again, a stinging slap across his buttocks that made Alex go still. He lay there, face down, breathing raggedly and trying desperately not to come just from the tiny wet sounds of Yassen applying the lube to himself.

Hands on him now, spreading him open, and the sticky, blunt head of Yassen's cock was pressing against his hole. Alex gave a wordless groan of relief, fingers clenching in the bedclothes as Yassen finally pushed inside. They'd stopped bothering with condoms a long time ago, and Alex always felt an additional spike of guilty arousal whenever he felt Yassen first enter him.

When he was all the way in, Yassen rolled them both over enough to let him reach round and take Alex's cock into his hand. Spooned tight against him, Yassen started thrusting between his legs, hard and forceful, knowing Alex wanted to feel it afterwards. 

Yassen's fingers were wet, Alex jerking desperately into his touch, giving breathy grunts of wordless, helpless pleasure with every brutal thrust inside him; Yassen loving how easily he could make Alex come apart like this, loving too, how open Alex was about what he wanted. 

He pressed a kiss to the back of Alex's neck, tongue flicking out, tasting salt, sweat and sea water. Alex was shaking in his arms, Yassen could feel it the length of his body, knew he was close. 

Yassen shifted position, concentrating for a moment on the hot weight of Alex's cock in his hand, stroking him harder, twisting his fingers, until suddenly Alex was coming with a convulsive shudder, spilling over Yassen's hand and his own stomach and stifling his cries in the duvet.

When Alex could breathe again, Yassen started thrusting into him once more, a shade more gently, but unashamedly seeking his own completion now. Already brought to the brink by Alex's own orgasm, it wasn't long before Yassen grasped him tightly round the waist and closed his eyes as he rode out his own climax, spurting his release into Alex's pliant body with a groan of deep satisfaction. 

Afterwards, they disengaged themselves carefully and fell into each other's arms, laughing quietly and kissing away any lingering doubts or embarrassments that might threaten to creep in, given the space to think.

Alex yawned, blinking in sleepy protest as Yassen made him get up long enough to get into the bed properly. He felt his earlier worries about the attack on them hovering nebulously at the back of his mind, threatening to crowd back in, but now there was a new level of tired, aching contentment safely blocking them out. 

He fell asleep with Yassen's arms round him, and it felt like the safest place in the world.

\--

In the early hours Alex was woken by his bladder, and rolled out from under the light duvet with a groan. He padded into the living room, realising they'd left the light on, and stumbled on through to the bathroom.

Making his way back a few minutes later, he reached out to snap off the light, then hesitated. Something - some movement - had caught his attention, something half seen in his peripheral vision. Alex looked round, not seeing anything obvious, but some sixth sense telling him all was not well.

Instead of turning the light off, he tried the front door, making sure it was still firmly locked and bolted, then crossed over to the bedroom, looking in to find Yassen was still asleep. Alex frowned, wondering if he was just wound up and jumpy, or if he really had seen something. Maybe it had just been a moth or something, catching his eye.

He was on the brink of telling himself not to be stupid and to get back into bed, when one of the shadows at the foot of the bed seemed to move. Alex blinked, wondering for a moment if it was just the dubious electricity supply making the lights flicker, but then it moved again and everything suddenly snapped into focus.

Flowing up over the end of the bed and coiling on the duvet was a huge black snake. 

Alex froze. It was a cobra - fast, deadly, and distinctly tetchy. Perhaps seeking the warmest spot in the air-conditioned flat, it had fixed its intentions on the bed. The only problem being, the bed was already occupied. Even as Alex watched in an agony of indecision, Yassen moved in his sleep and the snake lifted its head, hissing a warning and raising its hood.

Torn between calling to Yassen to wake up and worrying that he might get bitten before realising what was going on, Alex wondered what to do for the best. It didn't help that he was standing there in the nude, feeling horribly exposed.

The snake slithered further up, and Alex knew he had to do something fast. He sidled quickly along the edge of the bed, gathered up the top of the duvet, and praying it worked, whipped the whole thing to the floor, tumbling the snake off beneath it.

Yassen sat up, blinking in sleepy confusion. "Alex? What the hell?"

"Snake!" Alex felt like the coherent part of his brain had frozen, and all he could do was stare at the duvet, waiting for it to emerge.

"What?"

"Snake!" Alex's strangled exclamation was followed by an angry hissing noise, and the duvet moved.

Yassen abruptly caught on, and reached out to grab Alex's arm. "Get up here, for God's sake!" 

Alex scrambled onto the bed, while Yassen reached over to pull open the bedside cabinet. To Alex's surprise he sat back up holding a powerful looking handgun. 

A louder hiss, and they both looked round in time to see the cobra rear up at the side of the bed. Alex cried out, then a second later Yassen blew its head off with a single well-aimed shot.

"Fuck." Alex sagged weakly down against the pillows.

"Were there any more?" Yassen was still aiming the gun, sweeping the room for movement.

"I don't think so." 

Muttering under his breath, Yassen cautiously slid off the bed and flicked the duvet aside. Apart from the splattered remains of the one he'd shot, the floor was empty. He paused just long enough to pull on a pair of jeans then searched the rest of the flat, turning all the lights on and checking under all the furniture.

Alex put on shorts and t-shirt, but stayed marooned on the bed while he searched. Amidst all the alarm and fright, the thing his brain seemed to have fixated on was the fact he'd had no idea Yassen had been keeping a gun next to the bed.

He glanced around, the room as familiar to him as his own reflection. There was a small cabinet on either side of the bed. On Alex's, there was a mess of items - besides a lamp, there was a tangle of things pulled out of his pockets each night - shells, tissues, a half-eaten roll of sweets, small change. There was also a book on local shipwrecks, a dog-eared Clive Cussler novel, a half-drunk bottle of juice and an alarm clock. 

He looked over at Yassen's side of the bed. Matching lamp, glass of water, slim volume of tedious looking German essays, and Yassen's watch. That was all. It had never occurred to Alex to look inside the second cabinet, or what he might have found if he had. He wasn't even sure why it bothered him, but for some reason he was obscurely uncomfortable. It wasn't as if Yassen had been hiding it, there'd been nothing stopping Alex from looking. He just hadn't. 

"Alex?" 

He jumped slightly and looked up to find Yassen leaning in the doorway. "Oh. Hey. Find anything?"

Yassen shook his head. "All clear." He picked up the duvet and curled a lip in disgust at where it was stained with snake blood. "Looks like someone means business."

Alex looked startled. "You mean this was the same person?"

"Cobras aren't known for being native to Greece," Yassen said dryly. 

Alex shuddered. "What did we do?" he asked plaintively, and Yassen shrugged.

"Honestly? I'm having a hard time figuring out anyone with a reason to want both of us dead." He sighed. "I guess it'll get clearer when they try again."

"You think they will?"

"We're still alive, aren't we?" Yassen smiled ruefully. "Speaking of which, thank you. That's technically the second time you've saved my life today. If you're not careful, I'm going to get a complex."

Alex laughed, tired and surrendering. He got up and went to wrap his arms round Yassen's waist, and was hugged tight in return. 

"You want to go back to bed?"

Alex shook his head. "Somehow I don't think I'll get back to sleep now."

"Mmmn. Me neither. You want some tea?" 

Alex curled up on the sofa, watching Yassen moving round the kitchenette, gun still tucked into the back of his jeans, and reflected sleepily on the odd contrast of domestic and deadly. It was Yassen who did most of their cooking, Alex having several times proved himself entirely capable of burning water, and he'd never really thought anything of it before. He started worrying about all the things he took for granted, but despite his earlier words he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open and couldn't stay focussed.

When the first rays of dawn glinted through the window an hour or so later, they were still on the sofa, Yassen sitting at one end, empty mug in one hand, stroking Alex's hair with the other, while Alex lay curled on the cushions, fast asleep with his head in Yassen's lap.

\--

Alex opened his eyes and for a second was confused to find himself on the couch. Yassen was across the room, pulling on a jacket and looking ready to leave. 

"What time is it?" Alex sat up, stretching stiffly. 

"Still early. I want to go and check things out at the club. Try and clean things up a little before people start arriving."

"Is it safe?" The events of the previous night came back to him with a chill, and Alex got to his feet anxiously.

"Safe as anywhere, I'd guess." Yassen came over and kissed him. "Carry on as normal for now. But keep your eyes peeled, yeah?"

"You too." Alex clung to him for a second, then reluctantly let go. "Be careful."

When Yassen had gone, Alex made himself go into the bedroom, but all traces of the snake had vanished and there was a fresh duvet cover on the bed. For the first time he twigged the background hum he'd been half-hearing was the washing machine, and realised Yassen had saved him the trouble of having to clean up.

Feeling guilty and not quite sure why, he walked round to Yassen's side of the bed and opened the cupboard. Inside on the shelf lay the gun Alex had seen him use the night before. He ran his fingers over it thoughtfully, then closed the door again. If there was someone out there determined to kill them, he more than half wished Yassen was still carrying it.

\--

It was close to nine when Alex finally made his way down to the beach, having stood under the shower until the water ran cold. He was unsettled and jumpy; waiting for the unknown to happen was stretching his nerves unpleasantly. He shuffled through the sand, dragging his feet with a reluctance that felt alien to him and hoping the sunshine would soon cheer him up.

Reaching the surf shack, he fumbled in his pockets for the key to the padlock before looking up at the door. There was something pinned - no, nailed to the wood, and for a second his eyes refused to make sense of it. Then everything came into sickening focus and he wished it hadn't. 

Alex spun away, gagging in horror. Fixed to the door, facing out to sea and so hidden from the town above, was a severed penis.

Breathing deeply and trying to stay calm, Alex made himself turn back and look properly, desperately hoping it was a fake, a model. It wasn't. Mind whirling through reasons anyone would do such a thing and where it had come from, one awful possibility suddenly occurred to him. Alex dragged his phone out so hastily he dropped it in the sand and fell to his knees with a groan, picking it up and dialling quickly.

It rang, once, twice, three times. "Come on, come on," Alex begged. Four times. Five.

"Hey Alex. Everything okay?" Yassen's voice came down the line and for a second Alex couldn't breathe from sheer relief.

"Alex?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. Sorry. Um. Just - just checking in. You okay?" 

"Fine. I'm at the boatyard. All quiet. Everything alright your end?"

Alex looked sourly at the dismembered organ fixed to his door and sighed. "Yeah. Fine. I just got to work. See you for lunch? I could bring something out to you?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. See you later then."

" 'Kay. Bye." Alex hung up and blew out a breath, hands on his hips, looking at his door. "Shit."

\--

They were sitting on the veranda overlooking the pontoons, eating the sandwiches Alex had bought and watching the boats. Alex had barely any appetite, and it was made worse by the fact he knew he had to tell Yassen what had happened - should have told him straight away really, and wasn't quite sure why he hadn't.

"So - something happened this morning," he said finally, looking out over the water towards the town beach. You could make out the grey, sunbleached wood of the shed from here, and he sighed.

Yassen brushed crumbs off his lap and looked sideways at him. "I wondered if something had," he said neutrally. "You don't normally call me for no reason. Something you could take care of, presumably."

"Yeah." Alex rubbed his eyes. "There was - a message, I guess. Something nailed to the front of the boatshed."

"A scorpion? Another snake?" Yassen guessed. Alex winced. 

"A cock."

There was a pause. Yassen looked at him. 

"You - don't mean in the chicken sense, do you?"

Alex shook his head, pursed his lips. "I found out where it came from. Some tourist drowned yesterday off Black Point. They were keeping his body in the police station overnight, for transfer to the mainland. Turns out when old Demetrios was out at the fire last night, someone broke in and mutilated the body. Town's buzzing with the scandal."

"What did you, er, do with it?" Yassen asked, horribly fascinated.

"Buried it."

"On the beach?"

Alex looked indignant. "It was a secluded spot, okay? I'm not daft. And I was hardly going to hand it in, was I? Oh, here, I found your missing dick."

Yassen declined to comment, staring over at the distant beach instead. There was a dog running along the shoreline. Was it his imagination, or did it have something in its mouth? Too far away to be sure.

Working things through in his head, Yassen arrived at a conclusion. "When you called me this morning - you'd just found it, hadn't you?"

Alex nodded. 

"And if you weren't calling me for help, and given the flustered tone of your voice - you were what, worried that it was - mine?" Yassen was clearly trying not to laugh, and Alex scowled.

"I panicked, alright? I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Yassen smirked, leaning closer on the bench. "I'm disappointed to think you wouldn't recognise mine," he murmured. "Perhaps you need to reacquaint yourself with it?"

Alex snorted despite himself. "Cause yeah, it's been hours."

"Not at eye level." 

Alex's mouth dropped open. "Some nutcase is trying to kill us and you want a blowjob?"

Yassen shrugged. "If he succeeds, I might never get another one."

"Don't say things like that." Alex shook his head uncomfortably.

"It _would_ be tragic," Yassen agreed, deliberately missing the point and smiling inwardly when Alex laughed.

"Fine. Idiot." Alex stood up and held out his hand. Yassen looked up at him, surprised. 

"You serious?" 

"If you are." Alex smiled and shrugged, half embarrassed. "I mean - you're right. We should take every moment we can."

Yassen got to his feet and would have pulled Alex into a hug, but Alex dodged away, already regretting his moment of vulnerability. 

"Come on. I'm not doing it out here." Alex headed into the clubhouse without looking back, and Yassen followed him, turning the sign on the door to 'closed'.

They made for the back office, and Yassen shot the privacy bolt at the top of the door before dropping into his chair. Alex immediately straddled his lap, leaning down for a kiss and grinding up against the swell of Yassen's growing erection.

Yassen's hands burrowed under Alex's shirt, drawing his nails down his back and enjoying the way Alex pressed into him with a swallowed moan. Unwilling to break the kiss, Alex's fingers were moving blindly on Yassen's flies, sliding down the zip by touch alone and working him free through the slit in his boxers.

Alex shuffled backwards off Yassen's lap and dropped to his knees, Yassen spreading his legs to draw him in closer. He wrapped a hand around Yassen's hard cock, feeling the responding throb of his own still confined in his shorts. Alex lowered his head to take Yassen into his mouth, slow and wet, ignoring for the moment the urgent tug of fingers in his hair. He was going to take this at his own pace, savouring every second, knowing he could make it good.

Alex sucked around the warm, firm flesh filling his mouth, sensing the tension in Yassen's thighs and stomach as he tried to hold himself in check and not just thrust between Alex's lips as greedily as he wanted to. Alex pulled back a little, using his tongue, his lips, his fingers, switching between maddeningly gentle and unexpectedly hard, loving the way he could make Yassen give out surprised noises of pleasure.

His own dick was pressing uncomfortably against his zip, swollen and aching for attention. Alex spared a moment to rub a hand over his groin, adjusting himself in his shorts and wondering hopefully if Yassen could be persuaded to return the favour.

Yassen's fingers threaded through his hair and gave a sharper tug. Alex returned his full attention to sucking him off, grazing his teeth lightly over the skin in protest at having his hair pulled. Above him Yassen laughed, low and pleased, leaning forward in the chair, bowed over Alex's bobbing head. 

Lips swollen and glistening, Alex's breath was laboured as he finally licked and stroked Yassen to a messy completion, a hand tightening in his hair the only warning he got before Yassen was abruptly spilling into his mouth. As Alex instinctively pulled back, a last stripe of come splattered across his shirt, and he groaned.

"Thanks for that," Alex muttered thickly, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand and slumping forward to collapse against Yassen's thigh, coughing.

"Shouldn't have moved," Yassen smirked. 

Alex grunted a rude sounding reply, flapping his shirt to try and dry it off. There was sweat running down his back, and he settled more comfortably on the floor, eyes half closed as he leaned against Yassen's leg.

"Is it me, or is it hot in here?" Alex murmured, still hard and putting the flush of heat down to exertion.

"Mmmn." Yassen smiled down at him, knowing what Alex was hoping for and more than ready to give it to him. Then he paused, frowning. "Actually - it is hot in here. Hotter than it should be." He stood, zipping himself back up automatically and Alex sighed.

"It's summer. It's always too hot. Just open the window and come back - "

"Alex!" Yassen's shout of alarm made Alex spin round, and when he saw what Yassen was looking at he scrambled to his feet, all thoughts of sex forgotten. Wisps of smoke were curling under the door from the bar on the other side. 

"What the fuck?" Alex reached out to the door handle, but Yassen knocked his hand away. 

"Careful. It's probably hot." He pulled his shirt sleeve down over his hand and reached up to undo the bolt, before taking tentative hold of the knob. It turned halfway, then stuck. He rattled it irritably, clicking it to and fro and shoving the door to no avail.

"Yassen?" A nervous edge had entered Alex's voice, and he was coughing again, wondering how long the smoke had been seeping in unnoticed.

"It's locked," said Yassen flatly. "From the outside."

"We can kick it open though, right?" Alex asked, with a little effort keeping his voice as level as Yassen had.

Yassen cast his eyes round the door, frowning. "It opens inwards, the frame's in the way."

"So?" Alex fidgeted, panic licking at the edges of his mind like the flames outside. "Can we get out the window?" He ran over and looked down. It was a long drop, and far below the sea looked dangerously shallow.

"Wouldn't fancy it even if the tide was in, with those rocks below," Yassen said. "Even assuming we could fit through the window. No, don't open it - you'll suck in more smoke from outside." He went to a cupboard at the back of the room and unlocked it. Alex wasn't as surprised as he felt he should have been, when Yassen turned back holding another gun.

"How many of those things have you got squirreled away?" Alex demanded, but Yassen didn't answer. Instead he took aim at the lock and fired several times in succession, shielding his eyes from the splinters of wood that flew up. In just seconds the door gave up any pretence at resistance and swung loose from the frame, letting in a blast of heat and smoke.

Yassen stumbled back, and they stared in disbelieving horror at the inferno that had taken hold outside. Distant explosions of glass suggested the flames had reached the bar, and Yassen scowled.

"Here. Put this over your head." He ripped the single curtain down from the window and flung it at Alex.

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine. Keep your head down and run for the door. Don't stop, no matter what."

"Yassen - "

"Don't argue. I'll be right behind you. Go!" Yassen gave him a shove, and Alex did as he was told, wrapping the curtain fabric round to protect his face and hair from the fire. He ducked his head and against every screaming instinct, ran into the flames.

The heat was intense and he flinched, almost immediately disoriented by the smoke. He knew the door was straight ahead, but there were tables in the way to navigate, and halfway there Alex faltered, suddenly convinced he was going the wrong way. The protective curtain obscured his vision and he lifted the edge, trying to see more clearly. 

"Don't stop!" A guiding hand in the small of his back turned into a shove as Yassen passed him, grabbing the hem of Alex's shirt. 

Suddenly the outer door was in front of them, glass pane cracked from the fire and locked as the office had been. This one however opened outwards, and both Alex and Yassen kicked it simultaneously. It burst open and they stumbled out, coughing and gasping for breath in the fresh air.

Alex would have stopped, but Yassen grabbed him by the wrist and forced him to keep going until they were some distance away, in the shelter of some trees. Given the space to catch up, Alex realised with a shock he'd been worried someone might have been waiting for them to emerge, in order to pick them off.

Nothing happened though, and Yassen finally sank back against the bole of a tree, coughing irritably and rubbing his streaming eyes. Alex flung down the singed curtain in disgust, watching helplessly as the fire raced out of all control. 

They stayed there for a long time, watching in silence. There didn't seem to be anything else to do. The local fire crew arrived and at first tried to douse the flames before admitting defeat and allowing it to burn itself out. There were no other nearby buildings for it to endanger, and the wind was blowing away from the boats in the marina below. 

The roof collapsed in a shower of sparks, making Alex jump. He looked across at Yassen, still watching impassively, and wondered what was going on in his head. He'd put a lot of work into this place, over the years. It had to be hurting.

Alex moved closer until they were side by side, his arm just brushing Yassen's. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Yassen looked at him, and gave a tight, rueful smile. "It's only a building. We're both okay, that's the main thing."

"Yeah. Still. It's a pisser." Alex slid an arm round his waist, and for a moment Yassen hugged him back gratefully.

"What are we going to do?" Alex asked after a moment. "Is it even safe to go home?"

Yassen shook his head. "We'll pick some things up, but I don't think we should stay."

"Where will we go? A hotel?"

"And endanger other people as soon as he finds out we're still alive? No. I know a place. We should be okay there." 

Alex looked at him curiously, but Yassen didn't volunteer any further information and he didn't press.

They made their way over to where Alex's truck was parked and then hesitated, exchanging glances that said they were thinking the same thing.

"I suppose it's safe?" Alex said dubiously.

"Should be. That fire was meant to kill us, I doubt he'd have wasted time setting another bomb this soon."

They eyed the truck with misgivings, neither moving to get in. Yassen looked cautiously underneath it, and eased up the bonnet to look inside, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

Alex sighed. "Well, this isn't getting us anywhere. Look, you wait here while I start it up."

He went to move forward, but Yassen caught his arm. "How about _you_ wait here and I start it up?"

"It's my truck," Alex pointed out.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

They glared at each other, neither willing to back down. Eventually, Yassen let his hand fall with a sigh. "Fine. We both get in."

"Yassen, no - " Alex shook his head, looking distressed, and Yassen cupped Alex's jaw in his hand, holding his gaze.

"Do you think for a minute I could live with myself if I watched you burn?" he said with a quiet intensity. "Or for that matter, I would even want to go _on_ living without you?" Before Alex could answer, he kissed him quickly on the mouth, and climbed into the passenger seat.

Looking a little shaken, Alex climbed up behind the wheel, and put the key in the ignition. They looked at each other. Yassen's hand was hooked through the strap above the window, his white knuckles the only outward sign of tension. 

"Well." Alex swallowed. "Here goes nothing." He turned the key before he could change his mind, and flinched as the engine burst into life.

When a couple of uneventful seconds had ticked past, they both sagged with relief, laughing at their own paranoia. Alex reached over and squeezed Yassen's hand, then put the truck into gear and headed into town.

\--

Back at the flat, Yassen told Alex to pack a bag and started throwing his own things into a case. After the last day or so, Alex found he was obscurely relieved to find that Yassen didn't have one already packed up and waiting for just such an emergency.

"How much should I take? How long will we be gone for?" Alex asked, stuffing things randomly into a rucksack.

"As long as it takes." 

Alex rolled his eyes and Yassen shrugged. "What? It's not like you live in anything other than those damn denim shorts and the same three t-shirts the rest of the time."

Alex threw his washbag into the rucksack and pulled it shut irritably. "I _like_ these shorts," he muttered self-consciously, but Yassen had disappeared back into the living room.

Five minutes later they were heading back out, and Alex paused in surprise when instead of taking the path towards the road, Yassen ducked down the alleyway that lead to the yard at the back.

"Truck's out front," Alex reminded him, following automatically.

"No offence, but it's not exactly the most inconspicuous vehicle in the world," Yassen pointed out. They hurried past the reek of the bins, and pushed under a line of washing to slip into another alleyway leading towards the hillside beyond.

Alex couldn't argue. The pick-up was a once-bright yellow with the name of his watersports business emblazoned on the side, and a familiar sight along the harbour. But he still didn't know where they were going and Yassen wasn't volunteering the information.

For almost half an hour they climbed, first along secluded back-alleys behind the rows of apartments, then up sandy footpaths away from the town, overgrown with tamarisk and waving grasses. Eventually, down a track that was barely more than a rabbit-path, they came to a wooden house tucked into the lee of the cliff. 

At first glance it looked weathered and abandoned, but there was a newish looking lock on the door and Alex noted the roof and windows were in good repair. He half-expected Yassen to break in, but it turned out he had a key.

Alex followed him inside, looking around curiously. There was a scattering of furniture under dust-covers, and three other doors leading off the main room, he guessed to bedroom, bathroom and kitchen. The window overlooked the bay, and far below Alex could make out the edge of the town, and little boats like specks against the blue.

"What is this place?"

"Safe, hopefully," Yassen said, pulling a sheet off what turned out to be a battered couch and sitting down with a groan of relief.

"But - who owns it?"

"I do."

Alex stopped in his tracks, completely thrown. "What?"

Yassen shrugged. "It came up for sale a few years ago. I figured you never know when you might need a plan of retreat."

Alex was still staring at him, trying not to feel like he'd just been slapped. "You - never said. Do you _come_ here?"

"Not often. It would be no use if people associated me with it, would it?" Yassen looked up at him, finally realising that Alex wasn't happy. "I wasn't hiding it from you?" he added a little hesitantly. "Not on purpose. I guess - old habits just die hard. A secret two people know is no longer a secret."

Alex turned away, warring emotions in his heart. He knew, guiltily, that Yassen was right, if he'd known about this place he wouldn't have been able to resist coming to have a look. But it still hurt, to think there were things Yassen wasn't sharing with him, even after all this time. It made him wonder what else there was he didn't know about.

"Alex?" Yassen had got up without him noticing, and come to stand behind him at the window. "I'm sorry. I never meant - " he broke off, still not entirely sure what Alex was angry about.

After a second Alex sighed and turned to face him, although there was dejection in his posture and his downcast expression. "I'm sorry," he murmured, shaking his head slightly. "I mean - you were right, weren't you. The guns, the bolthole - we've needed all of it. I should be thanking you, not complaining. I just - I thought we were past all that, you know? I thought that part of our lives was over."

Yassen stepped forward and took Alex into his arms, and to his relief Alex hugged him back with a tight grip.

"We'll get through it," Yassen murmured. "I promise. It'll be okay."

"I hate this," Alex said miserably. "I hate feeling like this. It's not fair." He buried his face against Yassen's neck, groaning with frustration. Yassen just stood there and held him, knowing better than to offer any more empty words of comfort.

If Alex's teenage years had taught him one thing, it was that the only person he could rely on was himself. When circumstances had seen fit to reunite him with Yassen it had taken a long time for Alex to completely trust him, and longer still to open up about his own vulnerabilities, even after they'd become lovers. 

It was all a long time ago now, but Alex was horrified and ashamed to find how easily he could be made to feel like this, how the familiar feeling of helplessness came flooding back, paralysing and bewildering. 

He told himself sternly that things weren't the same - he was older now, stronger, and perhaps more importantly, no longer alone.

Alex raised his head, meeting Yassen's look of quiet concern with a sheepish smile. "Sorry," he murmured. "I'm okay." He sniffed. "God, I stink of smoke. Don't suppose this place has running water?"

Yassen let him move away, hiding his mounting anger than anyone should dare pull their lives apart like this, should dare make Alex this unhappy. He knew better than anyone how close to the edge Alex had been at one point, how close he'd come to giving up entirely. Yassen resolved he wouldn't let that happen again, no matter the cost.

Outwardly, he smiled and gave a short laugh. "Actually, it does. Not only that, it almost always works. Why don't you grab a shower, and I'll put together something to eat?"

Alex nodded gratefully and kissed him on the cheek, but there was a heaviness in his eyes that hadn't been there before, and Yassen didn't miss it.

To Yassen's relief, once showered and fed Alex noticeably perked up a bit, and they sat together in the fading light, glad of the evening breeze blowing in the window. No air conditioning up here, and only fitful electricity from a dilapidated generator in a shed outside. 

"So. What do we do?" Alex sounded more purposeful, and Yassen gave him a considering look.

"Way I see it, we have two options. We could run. Drop everything, start again somewhere else."

Alex shook his head slowly. "I like it here," he said stubbornly. "You do too." There was the barest hint of a question in his tone, but Yassen nodded immediately. Alex relaxed a little. "Besides. Practically all the money we have is tied up in the businesses."

"I didn't say it would be easy. But it would be doable. And safest."

Alex sighed. "You said there were two options."

"We stand our ground. Find him, before he finds us."

Alex stared into the distance, weighing things up. He hated the idea of running away, and imagined Yassen would find it even less palatable. "I say we stay. We've worked hard, for this. I'm not going to let someone take it away again. And if we leave - he'll just come after us. I don't want to live the rest of my life looking over my shoulder."

"Fine." Yassen reached out, took his hand. Wondered if Alex fully appreciated the fact his decision meant Ian - if it was him - would almost inevitably have to die. Again.

"So where do we start?" Alex leaned against him, wordlessly grateful for the arm that immediately settled round his shoulders. 

"He has to have come on a boat. There's no other way to get here. We should ask around the harbour, spread his description. See what shakes loose."

"He might have come over on the ferry," Alex pointed out.

"He might," Yassen conceded. "But it's not like he could pick up poisonous snakes and semtex from the local shop. That sort of cargo's going to be a lot easier to transport if he's got a boat of his own."

"Talking of snakes. Someone might have seen him hanging around the flat. The door was bolted from the inside that night, and we're on the second floor. He had to have sneaked it in some time during the day." The realisation made Alex shudder, that someone might have been inside their apartment without them knowing.

"Good thinking. You take the neighbours, I'll take the marina."

Alex opened his mouth to object, realising Yassen had deliberately given him the less exposed option, only for Yassen to kiss him firmly before he could get a word out.

"That's not fair," Alex murmured when Yassen finally released his mouth, but there was no heat to his words, and Yassen just smirked at him.

They lay next to each other in the warm dark that night, fingers lightly entwined, a familiar comfort in unfamiliar surroundings. Both occupied by their own thoughts, they didn't talk much, even though sleep was a long time coming for both of them.

\--

The next morning they made the long trek back down into town and set about canvassing the locals for any information it was possible to glean. It was the tail end of the tourist season and there were still enough strangers in town to make it a difficult task. Alex found people were keen enough to talk excitedly about the explosion and subsequent fire at the sailing club, but no-one really had any useful information, and none of their neighbours in the apartment block had noticed anyone hanging around. 

After a fruitless morning, he headed towards the public marina, feeling safe enough for the moment surrounded by light crowds of people. His eyes skimmed the rows of resting yachts, the forest of masts and rigging clanking in the breeze, looking for Yassen.

He quickly spotted him standing on a boat out towards the end of a pontoon, leaning over and apparently talking to the owner. Alex smiled instinctively, then a frown clouded his expression. Yassen looked awfully exposed out there, outlined against the blue of the sea and the white boats around him.

Almost as if Alex's very thought had conjured the action, a shot rang out, echoing off the buildings and sending the gulls up in a raucous, flapping cloud. Alex ran forward, his shouts lost in the general alarm. He saw Yassen looking round, apparently unharmed but clearly startled and looking for the source of the shot. 

Alex looked too, and caught movement at a high window in one of the harbourside warehouses. A shadowy figure, and the sinister shape of a rifle - not being withdrawn but taking aim again.

Yelling a warning as the loud crack of a second shot echoed across the dock, knowing it was useless and that he was too far away, Alex spun back to look towards the marina just in time to see Yassen falling backwards into the water. For a second time seemed to freeze, or maybe it was just the blood in his veins. 

Forcing himself to look away, Alex scanned the warehouse again, belatedly wondering if a third shot would be directed at him. Instead, he saw the gun barrel withdrawn, the shadow moving away form the window, and knew the sniper was leaving.

Alex started running again, not, as every fibre of his being was screaming to, towards the water to see if Yassen was alright, but towards the warehouse. This might be the only chance they got, and he knew that regardless of the consequences of the shooting, whether Yassen was fine, or had been injured, or was - or worse - that this was what Yassen would want him to do.

Alex reached the warehouse and ran along the facade until he came to an alleyway running up the side. Far along its length, a door banged and an indistinct figure started hurrying in the other direction.

With no consideration for his own safety, Alex hurtled up the alley, yelling furiously. The distant figure looked round, and took off at an equally fast pace, leaving Alex to chase after as best he could.

For what felt like hours but was in fact about fifteen minutes, Alex followed his quarry through the streets, first the cluttered alleys and loading bays of the warehouse district, then the winding and dusty streets of the old town, bright with geraniums and almost deserted in the midday sun.

Panting and sweating, Alex forced himself onwards. At least while he was running he didn't have to think about what news might be waiting for him when he returned to the harbour.

Eventually he found himself in a courtyard, overlooked by shuttered windows and with three alleys leading out again. He realised for the first time he'd lost the sound of running footsteps in front of him and had no idea which way to go. Alex stood there for a second, bending over and gasping for breath. 

He gradually became aware of how quiet it was, no sound other than the chirp of sparrows in the guttering - and what a perfect killing ground this courtyard was for anyone in the surrounding buildings with a loaded gun.

Walking hesitantly backwards into the cover of the alley he'd emerged from, Alex's nerve finally broke and giving up the pursuit as hopeless, he turned and ran back the way he'd come.

Approaching the harbour again he slowed, wondering what he'd find. The glimpse Alex had caught of Yassen plunging into the water played over and over in his head. He must have been hit, but how badly? Would Yassen be there when he arrived, waiting for news, wet and bleeding and angry? Or - 

Alex had a vision of arriving to find a body covered by a blanket lying at the side of the wharf, and felt like he might throw up. He slowed even more, reluctant to find out, until realising he was only prolonging the agony. Alex took a deep breath, and made himself start running again.

When he finally got there, the news was more confusing than anything. While numerous people had seen Yassen enter the water and immediately run to help, apparently no-one had found any trace of him since.

This was explained to Alex in various tones of morbidly fascinated apology - he must have become caught in the tangle of cables and anchor ropes beneath the surface they said, or dragged under by a current - if he hadn't been killed outright. They would keep looking, he was told, although it was strongly implied that now it seemed more a case of searching the tideline to see where he washed up. 

Hours later when all the searching had still proved fruitless, Alex finally freed himself from the ghoulishly sympathetic attention, and stumbled away by himself to think. Perhaps oddly, he was actually heartened by the lack of a body - the water was clear, and there _were_ no currents to speak of in the sheltered harbour. Which suggested Yassen had hidden on purpose, presumably as insurance against further shots, and must therefore be alive.

The only question was how badly he'd been hurt, and whether he was in need of help. Alex wondered if he'd been right after all in going after the sniper, whether he should have stayed to help with the initial search. Too late now.

He sighed, dragging his weary feet back through the town. The adrenaline of the chase had worn off long ago, leaving him exhausted and heart-sick, wondering if he was kidding himself about Yassen not being dead. 

Alex stopped by the island's small medical centre on the off chance, but although they had heard of the shooting, Yassen hadn't turned up there or been brought in.

Sitting on a wall with his head in his hands, Alex tried to think clearly. Where would Yassen go, if he wanted to keep out of sight? He realised there was one obvious possibility, and resisted the urge to look up at the hillside, to see if he could make out the villa. He might even now be under surveillance, Alex realised, and it would be no good if he gave away the location of their refuge.

Taking a circuitous route through the back streets just in case, Alex made his way up the hill. Reaching the house, he sagged a little to find the door still locked. Yassen, he realised, had had the only key. Still, it might only mean that he'd let himself in and relocked it as a precaution. And a locked door wasn't much of a barrier to Alex.

A minute's jiggling with a piece of wire from his pocket and the lock clicked open. Alex stepped inside, opening his mouth to call out - and hesitated. He acknowledged the sudden crushing realisation that to call out Yassen's name and receive no answer from an empty house would be more than he could bear.

A movement behind him made him jump and Alex spun round, knowing he was too slow, if it was anyone that meant him harm then he was already dead. 

In the next split second he realised it was Yassen, already reaching out to him, and Alex threw himself into his arms with a stifled sob of relief. He'd been waiting behind the door, Alex realised, to see who it was coming in. 

"I'm sorry." Yassen held him tightly. "I didn't mean to scare you. If I could have got word to you - but there were too many people around."

Alex shook his head, face still buried in Yassen's shirt. "It's okay," he said indistinctly, the ferocity of his grip on Yassen belying his words. "When there was no - when they couldn't find you, I figured - you must be - okay." He pulled back, looking Yassen over with renewed worry. " _Are_ you okay?"

Yassen nodded. "The second bullet just grazed my arm. I considered it more prudent to take a dive than wait for a third."

Alex sighed with heavy relief and slumped back into Yassen's embrace. "Don't do that to me."

"Sorry," Yassen murmured again, smiling against his hair. "So - any luck?" he added after a moment. 

"I lost him." Alex straightened up and moved away a little, looking guilty. "I chased him for ages, but I lost him in the Old Town - I think he went in somewhere." He sighed. "Sorry."

"No matter. You did your best." Yassen closed the gap between them again and pulled Alex back into a hug. "It's okay."

"It's not okay!" Alex slapped a hand against Yassen's chest angrily. "Why is he _doing_ this? What have we _done_?" 

Yassen shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Although the fact he's tried four times and not succeeded adds weight to the theory that it's Ian."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Yassen smirked. "If he was half as good as he thought he was I'd never have blown his cover in the first place, never mind got close enough to shoot him. Let's just say I'm glad I got the right brother as a mentor back then."

Alex snorted with guilty laughter. "You're awful." 

"And you're smiling." Yassen kissed him triumphantly.

\--

Later, having showered and eaten they sprawled on the bed, painted in the deepening colours of the sunset.

"So. Now what?" Alex wondered, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow. 

Yassen groaned. "We need a new plan." 

"What we need, is bait," said Alex, darkly.

Yassen sat up, looking wary. "What did you have in mind?"

"He thinks you're dead, right?" 

"Hopefully."

"So maybe if he thinks it's just me, he'll be more likely to come forward." Alex sat up too, hugging his knees defensively. "I mean - chances are he wants me to know it's him, right? Wants me to know why he's doing this?" Even to Alex, when spoken out loud his words sounded like a long shot. "He doesn't know that I saw him, I don't think. In the bar. I think he was just making sure we were there."

"So what's your plan?"

"I should just - sit out somewhere. Where he can see me. Wait for him to come to me."

"That's not a plan, that's suicide!"

Alex huffed. "I know him. He'll come. If he thinks it's safe, if it's just me."

"Do I have to remind you we don't know for certain it is Ian?" Yassen demanded. "One glimpse, that's all we've got to go on."

"You think I'm delusional." Alex sounded bitter.

Yassen hesitated. "I think it's possible you were mistaken," he said carefully.

"You said yourself you thought it was him!"

"I said it might be. And I don't like the idea of you putting yourself in danger like this."

"What other choice do we have?" Alex pointed out wearily. "How long are you willing to hide up here? How long before he realises he missed and comes after you again?"

"Alex - " Yassen sighed, giving in. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."

"You should stay here, where it's safe."

"If you think for a second I'm letting you walk out there alone?" Yassen shook his head. "I'll stay out of sight if that's what you want. But I'm coming."

Alex relented. "Was kind've hoping you'd say that," he admitted under his breath.

Yassen laughed, putting an arm round him. Alex rested his head on Yassen's shoulder with a sigh. 

"I just want it to be over. I want our lives back." 

"Tomorrow." Yassen promised. "One way or another, we'll see this thing out."

Alex groaned. "I am never going to sleep tonight."

Yassen kissed his shoulder. "Guess we'll have to find some other way of passing the time?" he murmured.

Despite himself, Alex smiled. "I hope you packed the lube then," he said, turning his head to intercept Yassen's mouth with his own.

"Well we did leave in kind've a hurry," Yassen teased, sliding his arms round Alex's waist and kissing him again as he laid him down against the pillows.

Alex laughed. "You're the sort of man who buys a fucking _house_ just in case he needs it. No way did you not bring lube."

"I had a lot on my mind," Yassen said innocently. Alex snorted, and rolled them both over so that Yassen was on his back and Alex was straddling his thighs. 

"Well, I just hope for your sake you're kidding."

Yassen raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I see. Like that is it?" 

Alex leaned forward, hands braced in the pillows either side of Yassen's head, and kissed him. "You owe me," he whispered.

"Do I?" Yassen ran his hands appreciatively down Alex's back, sliding them under his shirt. "How careless of me."

"I want you. I want to fuck you." Alex's lips moved against Yassen's as he breathed the words, making them both shiver, instinctively pressing closer. Yassen turned the touch into a deeper kiss, Alex's tongue soft and eager against his own.

"Can I?" Alex whispered, not quite meeting his eyes. He could feel Yassen getting hard against his thigh, and was already stiff as a board himself.

"You don't have to ask," Yassen smiled against his lips, hands still stroking reassuringly down Alex's back. "And to answer your earlier question - yes, I did."

Alex grinned, ducking his head in mild embarrassment. It wasn't that they never did it this way round, just that both were inclined to prefer it otherwise. Sometimes though - Alex felt the need to assert himself, and this was definitely one of those times. Even if he'd never quite been able to shake the need to ask for permission.

When they'd first become lovers, Alex had still been a lanky boy in his late teens. Neither had been entirely sure it was a good idea, only that at that moment, it was something they'd both needed.

To their surprise, what had started as a mutual craving for intimacy and comfort from someone that, if they didn't entirely trust, they at least trusted more than anyone else - had not only endured, but deepened into a lasting bond of love.

These days, Alex was as tall as Yassen, with broader shoulders and muscled, tanned limbs from a life spent outdoors and on the go. Alex knew people made assumptions about them, about the dynamics of his relationship with the more quietly spoken Russian, and that generally people guessed wrongly. Mostly all he wanted after a long hard day was for Yassen to fuck him into the mattress; to hold him down and possess him, to show him beyond all measure who he belonged to.

Tonight though, Alex was on edge and full of nervous energy. As he slipped out of the room to go and hunt through Yassen's washbag, he caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror, and made a face at his reflection. 

Wary brown eyes stared back at him from under a fall of sun-bleached hair. Faint t-shirt tan lines circled his biceps, and more were laddered down his chest, picking out the lacings of a life-jacket. 

Here and there, old white scar lines stood out against his tanned skin and for a second Alex followed one with his fingers. He'd hated them for so long. It was Yassen who'd eventually managed to make him see them differently, as a sign of strength, of survival, rather than of weakness and defeat. These days Alex barely noticed they were there, and it was a sign of how thrown he was feeling that they should make him hesitate even now.

A movement in the doorway, and before Alex could turn round Yassen was there in the room, holding his gaze in the mirror and sliding his arms round Alex from behind.

"You were a long time," he murmured. "Thought you'd fallen asleep in here."

Alex managed a smile, although there was enough doubt in it to make Yassen tighten his hold on him.

"Alex? You okay?" 

"Yeah." Alex turned in his arms, let Yassen kiss him. "I just - I don't know," he sighed. "I feel weird. Like - do you think maybe at some point I did something, that means I'm never going to be allowed to be happy? Not forever. It's like, something will always come along and end it, take everyone away from me. I'm just bad luck to be around."

"Alex." Yassen tilted his face up, looking into his eyes and frowning at the hint of despair in them. "You are not bad luck. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, and we will get through this, do you understand?"

Alex nodded hesitantly and Yassen took hold of him by the shoulders, not letting him look away. "Nobody is taking me away from you, okay?" he said firmly. "And if anyone tries, then the only bad luck around here will be _me_ happening to _them_."

Despite himself, Alex smiled at that, and Yassen relaxed his grip. 

"Come on. Come to bed," he urged softly. "Let's just forget things, for a while?"

This time, Alex's nod was more determined, and it was him that pulled Yassen back into the bedroom.

Soon both naked, they climbed under the covers and held each other close. Alex let his hands roam greedily over Yassen's body, teasing his nipples, drawing his fingertips through the hair on his chest. He drifted lower, cupping Yassen's balls in one hand and then stroking his cock until he was getting steadily hard again.

Yassen was returning the favour, kissing his way across any skin he could reach, dipping his fingers between the curve of Alex's buttocks and making him wriggle and laugh.

"My turn," Alex whispered, and Yassen made no protest as he proceeded to set about exploring him with gentle, confident fingers, slick with lube. Yassen spread his legs for him, opening himself to Alex's touch, knowing he could easily come from this alone, Alex's long, strong fingers inside him. But he knew too that Alex wanted more, and eventually made himself sit up, eyes dark with arousal.

"You won't break me, you know," he murmured.

Alex laughed, blushing defiantly. "It's been a while," he said, unable to prevent the smile tugging at his lips from blossoming into a grin. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Yassen pulled him forward until Alex was sprawled across his body, laughing. "How about you just fuck me already?" Yassen breathed, wrapping his hand around Alex's thickening cock to add emphasis to his words. Alex made a strangled noise in his throat, rutting instinctively into his grip. Yassen reached for the lube and used the motion of his hand to leave Alex wet, hard and ready.

When Alex finally took him, it was with a tenderness that spoke volumes. As far as Alex knew, he was the first and only person Yassen had ever slept with in this way, the only one he had ever trusted enough, and it made those occasions when they made love like this feel infinitely more intense.

They moved unhurriedly against each other, slow and sure, wanting to make it last. Drawing out the pleasure as the last of the daylight faded around them, they lingered over every kiss, every touch, every laboured breath. In the window, unregarded, a large yellow moon rose over the dark sea as they finally came, utterly lost in each other.

Afterwards, when they slept, it was deep and dreamless, and all thoughts of the morning and what must lie ahead were set aside for a final few blissful hours.

\--

Mid-morning found Alex sitting alone at a table on the quay, nursing a coffee. He wore dark glasses - Yassen's - and an olive t-shirt over dark jeans. He presented a sombre and slightly lonely figure, and while a few people paused to offer their condolences, mostly he was left alone.

He sat there for an hour, slowly drinking a second coffee, and wondering if he was wasting his time. Another half-hour ticked past, and Alex was on the brink of giving it up as a loss when a man stepped out of the shadow of the next building and walked slowly towards him.

Alex tensed, forcing himself to stay still as the man approached. He wondered where Yassen was, whether he was watching. He'd promised he would be nearby, but they hadn't decided on a plan of action, preferring to see how things panned out.

"Hello Alex." The man stopped in front of his table, clipped British accent sounding oddly out of place. 

"It is you." Alex looked up at his uncle, confused emotions warring in his heart. His instinct was to smile, to be glad that against all the odds he was somehow alive - but it was tempered by the fact that there was a ninety-nine percent probability he'd spent the last few days trying to kill them.

"You don't look especially surprised to see me. May I?" Ian gestured at the free chair, and Alex nodded, watching him sit down.

"I saw you. At the sailing club. I thought I was going mad."

Ian tilted his head. "Who says you aren't?"

Alex frowned, and Ian laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound. "Where's your perverted little Russian friend?"

"He's dead. You killed him." Alex's voice caught on the words, and it was only half acting. The thought that someone he'd once loved and trusted should do this to him was like a raw wound in his heart.

"Take off your sunglasses," Ian ordered. Alex complied. His eyes were red, as if he'd been crying all night - or, had earlier been rubbing them hard and splashing them with sea-water.

Ian's gaze narrowed and he looked mildly disgusted. "Christ. You've actually been mourning the bastard." He settled back in his seat, as if satisfied. "I wasn't sure, you see. When they failed to turn up a body. But it seems I was on the money."

Alex bit back a retort as a girl came out of the cafe towards them to take Ian's order. She smiled at Alex, and patted his arm.

"I was so sorry, to hear what happened yesterday. You must be devastated. Do they know who it was yet?"

Alex glanced across at his uncle, and shook his head, wondering what would happen if he said simply 'yes, it was him'. It was funny, he thought bleakly, that in all of this, neither of them had once considered going to the police. There had been from the start an unspoken understanding that they would handle it themselves. What was it Yassen had said? Old habits die hard.

"No," he said now, to the waitress. "Someone with a grudge, I guess. From way back, maybe." 

She nodded sympathetically, and told him to let her know if there was anything she could do, took Ian's order and went back inside, leaving them alone again.

"Why are you doing this?" Alex asked plaintively. "What have I done?"

"Done?" Ian sneered briefly. "How long have you got?"

Alex stared at him, uncomprehending. He studied his uncle's face, as if he could read the answers there. There were tighter, shiny patches of skin he noticed now, as if he'd had plastic surgery. Alex wondered for a heart-thumping minute if this really was him, if it was some impostor made to look like him - but no, there'd been recognition in his eyes that you couldn't fake.

"I understand why you'd want to hurt Yassen," he said tentatively. "But why me?" It sounded weak and self-pitying, and Alex was briefly ashamed of himself.

Ian started to answer, then checked as someone came out of the cafe and laid a cup and saucer at his elbow. Alex's gaze flickered up disinterestedly, then back to Ian's face. 

When they were alone again, Ian took a sip of his coffee and smirked. "I should congratulate you, I suppose. You've been proving remarkably hard to kill."

Alex took a moment to compose himself, draining his own cup and watching Ian mirror the movement.

"Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are," Alex said calmly. 

Ian glared at him. "Shut your mouth," he snapped, composure slipping for a second. He mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. "God I hate this heat. It's not natural." He swallowed more coffee, feeling thirsty.

"Maybe you should have stayed in Britain," Alex observed. "Where _have_ you been, anyway?"

"None of your business." Ian blinked, as if to clear his vision, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table.  
"The question you should be asking yourself, is how quickly is your miserable life ticking itself away?"

Alex laughed, and leaned forward to meet him. "Yassen was right," he hissed. "You are crap at this."

Ian frowned, as if it was hard to focus on Alex's face. "What?"

"I mean - four attempts and still you can't kill us? That's pretty shite, you've got to admit."

"What are you talking about?" Ian demanded. "He's dead. I killed him. I did that."

"Did you?" Alex leaned back, and his smile was hard. "You know - it's practically a cliché, that no-one ever notices the waiting staff, and yet - here we are. I wasn't even expecting it, and _I_ noticed him."

Ian's frown deepened, and his gaze darted suspiciously to his cup. "What the fuck are you talking about? Some Australian girl - ?"

"Tina, yeah. She took your order. Didn't bring the coffee out though." Alex watched him closely, watched the sweat forming on Ian's brow. Felt no pleasure in having outwitted him, just an implacable coldness.

"What have you done?" 

"Honestly? I don't know." Alex folded his arms. "We didn't have a chance to discuss it. So - you might be dying. Might just be drugged. I honestly I have no idea. How lucky are you feeling right now?"

Ian's elbow slipped and he lurched against the table, upsetting the cups and spilling the rest of the coffee.

"You little - "

"Now now." Alex was on his feet, wondering if he should run. "You know you never liked me swearing."

A car pulled up next to him, and Alex looked round, recognising Yassen behind the wheel with a flush of relief. He darted round the table and slung an arm round the semi-conscious Ian's waist.

"Just had a bit too much sun," Alex explained cheerfully to the concerned looks of the people at nearby tables. "I'd better get him home." He manhandled Ian into the back and jumped hastily into the passenger side. Yassen accelerated away fast enough to fling Alex back in his seat.

"Is he - ?" Alex asked nervously, casting a look into the back where Ian was sprawled limply. 

"Just unconscious," Yassen said. "I didn't think you'd take kindly to being saddled with a corpse in the middle of the street. And there was always a possibility that he'd notice me. I couldn't risk him making you drink it instead."

Alex gave him a wan smile. "Where did you get the car?" 

"Borrowed it."

Alex snorted. "Do they know?"

Yassen threw him a smile. "Possibly not. But we're not going far."

"Where _are_ we going?" Alex had assumed they'd take Ian back to the villa, or maybe even their flat, but Yassen was heading out of town, along the shore road.

"Somewhere quiet. There are things we need to know. Like - is he working alone, or do we need to worry about anyone coming after him?" Yassen said grimly.

Alex shrank back into the seat, feeling queasy. He hadn't considered the fact that Ian might be working _for_ someone, he'd assumed this was personal. But people would do the worst of things for money, he'd learnt that long ago. And there had been a scorpion painted on the door, he remembered with a shudder. 

After a couple of miles, Yassen turned off onto a dirt track, and Alex frowned. "The lighthouse?"

Yassen nodded. "Somewhere we're not likely to be overheard."

A couple of minutes later they were hauling Ian's dead weight out of the car and staggering towards the dilapidated bulk of the lighthouse. It had been disused for years, replaced by a modern automated one further down the coast, and was falling apart. 

Alex rattled the door. It was padlocked, but before he could remark on the fact, Yassen had pulled the key out of his pocket. 

"Of course you've got a key." Alex sounded faintly disgusted. "Why wouldn't you." He looked up sharply. "Don't tell me you've fucking bought this as well?"

"No." Yassen shook his head, shoving the warped wood with his shoulder and dragging the three of them inside. "I don't want anything to connect us with this. The key hangs in the harbour office. I borrowed it."

"Seem to be 'borrowing' a lot of things this morning," Alex said acidly, but Yassen ignored him.

"Come on, help me get him up the stairs."

The old lighthouse was a fairly low structure as things went, barely three storeys high, but they were both panting by the time they'd dragged Ian's comatose body up to the lamp room. 

Alex looked around, suddenly breathless from more than the climb. The lamp machinery had been dismantled and removed long ago, and the room was bare apart from an old wooden chair and a packing case. It wasn't the furniture that made him feel lightheaded though, it was the fact the chair was standing on plastic sheeting, and on the packing case was a set of what could only be described as butchery implements.

Yassen dumped Ian unceremoniously on the chair and cuffed his hands behind him.

"Yassen?" Alex sounded scared. "What is all this?"

"It's just for show. Scare him into talking."

"I don't think he's the kind of guy who scares easily."

Yassen shrugged. "Then maybe it's not just for show."

Alex stared at him. "You're talking about torture," he said in a small voice. 

"He's been trying to kill us Alex. Repeatedly. He damn nearly succeeded. And _now_ you're squeamish?"

"He's still my uncle!" Alex swallowed. "I - I don't know if I'm okay with this."

"I'm doing this for us Alex!" Yassen snapped, briefly losing patience and Alex glared back at him.

"Are you? Are you sure you don't just enjoy it? Like old times for you, huh?" He turned and stormed angrily out of the door onto the parapet, missing the way Yassen flinched.

Outside, Alex wrapped his arms around himself, already regretting his hasty words. The wind whipped at his hair, and he blinked in the sunlight. There was no railing up here, only a narrow ledge running round the top of the lighthouse. It was the main reason the place was kept locked against visitors.

A noise behind him made him turn. Yassen was standing in the doorway, expression carefully guarded. He came no closer, and Alex abruptly felt like crying at how fucking unfair everything was.

"I - didn't mean that," Alex said, and Yassen noticeably relaxed a fraction. He nodded silent acceptance of Alex's immediate retraction, and they edged closer to each other.

"There's still a choice," Yassen said quietly. "We could still run. Leave him here, leave town."

Alex sighed. "It's that or kill him, isn't it?" Yassen said nothing, and Alex screwed up his face miserably. "Why does it have to be my decision? Can't you decide for me?"

"Because if I choose wrong? You'll come to hate me," Yassen murmured. "And if I live through this, only to lose you, then it's all been for nothing."

They were right in front of each other by now, and Alex couldn't bear it any longer. He flung himself into Yassen's arms, holding him fiercely. "You won't lose me," he whispered, and felt Yassen's embrace tighten possessively around him.

"Well isn't that disgustingly sweet?" drawled a voice behind them, and they pulled apart in shock, spinning round. Standing in the doorway was Ian, covering them both with a gun. "If it's any consolation, you're about to get to die together?" he added.

"How did you - " Yassen bit off the words, angry at himself for not binding the man more securely, and for leaving the gun he'd taken off him inside the room. He'd been distracted, and so sure that Ian had been thoroughly unconscious. It was no excuse, and now it looked like they'd pay for his mistake. He edged sideways until he was standing protectively in front of Alex.

"Maybe I'm not quite as bad at this as you seem to think I am," Ian answered. "Or maybe you two are the ones with an inflated opinion of themselves?" He frowned. "And you can stop that too. Move away and take out your gun. Slowly."

Yassen swallowed an angry reply and removed the gun carefully from his waistband. His move had placed it out of sight, and more importantly right in front of Alex, but clearly Ian had seen it when Yassen's back was turned.

"That's better. Now put it on the ground. Slowly."

"Why should I?" Yassen countered. "You're going to shoot me anyway."

"Because if you don't, I'll shoot Alex here in the stomach, and you can watch him bleed painfully to death. How's that?" Ian's tone was calm, level, and Yassen sensed he wasn't bluffing. He did as he was told, placing the gun down on the stone flags of the parapet.

"Now kick it over the edge." 

Yassen hesitated, and Ian gestured irritably with the gun. "Do it!"

Yassen exchanged a look with Alex, who nodded slightly. Yassen sighed, and nudged the gun over the edge with his foot. A few seconds later it clattered down onto the rocks below.

"Better." Ian nodded. 

"Why are you doing this?" Alex blurted. "What's wrong with you?"

Yassen nodded, stalling for time to think. "It's a fair question. I mean me, me I understand, but Alex? Why don't you just let him go?" He sensed Alex twitch at his side, and settled a calming hand at the small of his back. If he could get Alex out of here, he would. It would be enough.

Ian's icy control was starting to show the cracks, and he stared at them with something approaching contained rage. But when he spoke, his voice was as distant as before.

"Oh, I'm afraid neither of you will be leaving here. Thank you, by the way, for setting up that little room in there. I can tell you now, it's going to be slow and painful for you Gregorovich. I'm going to take you apart, piece by bloody piece. And I'm going to enjoy it. But I'll tell you what, to show I'm not completely without family feeling, if you do exactly as I say, and don't put up a fight, I'll make it quick for Alex - and I won't make him watch. How's that?"

"You're insane," Alex breathed, pressing closer to Yassen in sheer horror. "What did I ever do to you?"

"I'll tell you shall I?" Ian sneered. "Little bedtime story, before it's lights out forever?" He shifted his posture, settling the gun more comfortably to cover both of them. 

Alex belatedly realised he'd made them an easier target by moving closer and would have pulled away again, but Yassen slid an arm round his waist and kept him there.

"Shall I tell you when my life ended?" Ian asked mockingly. "It wasn't when Sputnik here shot me, believe it or not. No, it was the day that idiot brother of mine managed to go and get himself killed. Landing me with his screaming infant. Do you know, I used to enjoy my life. Girls, guns, plenty of money. And suddenly it all comes to a crashing end, and I'm stuck with nothing to look forward to but years of nappies and homework. I never even got to bone that stupid housekeeper."

Alex would have gone for him at that point, but Yassen tightened his grip, forcing him to stay where he was. Ian noted the movement though, and laughed at them.

"Pathetic. And you wondered why I hardly ever came home."  
He wiped his brow with his wrist, and glared at them. "And then of course, it all gets infinitely worse, and I end up getting fucking shot," he spat. "Although as you will have noticed, not especially fatally."

"Not a mistake I'll make again," Yassen muttered, and Ian waggled the gun at him reprovingly. 

"Oh, you'll not be getting a second chance. Although there was a time when I wished you'd succeeded." A shadow passed over Ian's face, and he controlled himself with difficulty. "They tortured me, you know," he said conversationally. "For - well, I don't know how long for. It wasn't a case of giving up secrets. When they'd finished with me I didn't even know my own name any more."

"I'm sorry," Yassen murmured, and Ian looked at him with naked hate.

"Oh, you will be. They left me for dead, eventually. But I didn't die. Seems to run in the family, that. No, I ended up in some nuthouse, dribbling into my beard for the next God knows how many years. I imagine everyone thought I'd die there, just another rambling John Doe. But one day, things started getting clearer, and inch by inch? I clawed my way out of hell."

Ian wiped his forehead again, and Alex wondered if it was just the sun, or if he was actually ill. He didn't look too good.

"Anyway." Ian shook himself, as if he was having trouble concentrating. "You know what? Once I was back inside my own head? I figured - somewhere out there, there's a nephew of mine, who owes me some TLC. A few years of payback. Let him look after me for once. So I started looking, only to find you'd apparently fallen off the face of the fucking earth."

The gun wavered to point briefly at Yassen's head. "Started looking for you, too. Thought I'd been beaten to it at first, but then I started hearing rumours you weren't as dead as you were made out to be." 

He swapped gun-hands, clenching the fingers of the other convulsively. Alex realised the best chance they had was of wearing him down, all they had to do was keep him talking. Fortunately, now he'd started, it seemed more difficult to shut him up. Alex wondered guiltily how long Ian had been brooding on this, letting it fester. Was it really all his fault?

Ian was glaring at them in turn, clearly working himself up into a rage. "Imagine my surprise, when the two trails started to converge," he spat, with his next words rising into a frenzy. "Imagine my _fucking_ surprise, Alex, when I discover that my beloved nephew is now taking it up the arse from the man who shot me! How do you think that made me _feel?_ " he screamed, flecks of saliva beading his lips.

"Strangely aroused?" Yassen suggested, into the second of stunned silence that followed. 

Ian took a step forward, raising the gun, then controlled himself with difficulty. "Oh, no. I see your game, and it won't work. You're not goading me into ending you quickly. I'm going to take my time, over you. All those weeks I spent getting tortured? I picked up a tip or two."

Yassen sighed. "Pity." 

Then launched himself forward without warning, reaching for the gun as he went, already knowing he'd misjudged it, that Ian would have time to fire, and that all he could do would be to try and take Ian with him over the edge.

The gun went off at the same instant they came together, Alex's scream of denial lost in the explosion. There was a spray of blood, but Yassen's momentum was still enough to hurl them both forwards, and the worn stones crumbled under Ian's feet, sending them both skittering over the edge.

"No!" Alex threw himself down to look, heart feeling like it was trying to beat its way out of his throat. To his unspeakable relief, he found them both hanging from the jagged masonry about a foot below the parapet, Yassen bleeding from the shoulder, his left arm hanging uselessly. 

"Fuck." Alex slithered further over, grabbing Yassen's wrist and ignoring Ian's furious orders that Alex should help him instead.

Yassen gritted his teeth, trying to reach up with his wounded arm to take Alex's hand. Alex braced himself flat against the stones and resorted to just taking two fistfuls of Yassen's shirt and heaving.

Gradually, painfully, Alex managed to haul him back up over the edge, and they collapsed in a gasping, shuddering heap, both slick with Yassen's blood and hardly able to believe they were both still alive.

A yell from below indicated Ian was also still with them, and Alex moved to get up. Yassen put a restraining hand on his arm, but Alex shook his head. "He's still my uncle. I can't just - I have to." Backing away with a look of apology, Alex crawled back to the edge and reached down to where Ian was still clinging defiantly to the stonework.

"About bloody time," Ian snarled, and seized Alex's hand with his own. Preparing to pull him up, Alex was taken completely by surprise when Ian instead yanked him viciously forwards, and Alex slipped over the edge until he was only hanging on by one hand.

"What are you doing?" Alex cried, struggling to pull himself back up as Ian transferred his grip to Alex's flailing legs, doing his best to send him plunging to the rocks below.

"Something I should have done years ago, you ungrateful little shit."

A hand clamped around Alex's arm and he looked up to find Yassen had dragged himself to the edge and was hanging onto him for grim death. 

Alex looked down again, into the distorted features of the only other man he'd ever trusted to keep him safe, and knew what he had to do if all three of them weren't to fall to their deaths.

He pulled one foot free and took a final, shaking breath. Then kicked downwards, as hard as he could, into Ian's face.

There was a stifled grunt of surprise, and then the deadly weight pulling Alex down was gone. The drawn out cry that followed came to an abrupt end with a muffled thud, but before Alex could look down Yassen was pulling him back over the edge and holding him close. 

"Don't look," he muttered, pulling Alex further away from the drop. "You don't need to see that."

They clung to each other, fighting for breath, Alex's thoughts just a clouded blur. He felt numb, and wanted nothing more than to just sit there forever not having to think, but the wetness seeping into his shirt gradually made him realise that Yassen was still bleeding, and badly.

"Shit." Alex pulled back, lifting up the collar of Yassen's shirt to look, and going pale. He stripped off his own shirt, bundling it quickly into a wad that he pressed against the wound to staunch the blood.

"I think - I need help," Yassen said distantly, as if he too was finding it hard to think.

Alex pulled him to his feet, getting an arm around him and propelling them both with difficulty towards the door. They stumbled back down the steps, Alex conscious they were leaving bloody smears down the walls. At the bottom, Yassen made Alex stop long enough to re-lock the door, but once they'd made it to the car, it was Alex's turn to pause. 

"I have to see for myself," he said wretchedly. "If I don’t - I'll never be sure." 

Yassen clasped his hand, then let him go with a nod. "Make it quick," he said hoarsely, and Alex turned and sped off round the outside wall of the lighthouse, running over the rocks towards the seaward side.

He was back barely a couple of minutes later, looking sombre. 

"Alex?" 

"He's dead," Alex confirmed shortly. "I pushed him into the sea, the tide'll take him now. And no, I don't want to talk about it."

Yassen let Alex help him into the car in silence, and closed his eyes against the pain as Alex proceeded to drive them at breakneck speed back into town.

\--

They fetched up at the medical centre, where Alex was left to stew for hours in the airless waiting room while Yassen was dealt with. They'd agreed tersely on the way there, that they would claim the injury was from the previous day's shooting, that Alex had found him washed up on a shoreline, and if neither the wound nor the state of Yassen's clothes supported that, they would plead ignorance.

In the end, there were no awkward questions asked, although it was late before they were reunited and Alex was allowed to take him home. He drove them to the flat, it being closest, and, he reasoned, there being no reason not to any more.

Drowsy from painkillers and irritable from the pain they didn't quite kill, Yassen dropped onto the sofa with a groan. His left arm and shoulder was strapped and bandaged, and his shirt and trousers were caked in dried blood.

Alex remained standing, as if he didn't quite know what to do with himself. They'd exchanged barely a sentence since the lighthouse, and there was an air of tension between them that neither could quite explain.

"Fix me a drink?" Yassen asked, looking up at Alex hopefully.

Alex frowned. "You shouldn't drink on those pills."

Yassen rolled his eyes, more impatiently than the note of concern warranted. "Jesus, after the day I've had if I can't even have a fucking drink then what's the point?" He hauled himself back up and walked over to where a cabinet held various bottles and a decanter. Awkwardly, he one-handedly poured himself a drink, and when Alex tried to help him pushed him crossly away.

"It's fine. I've done it now." He threw half the drink back in one, guiltily conscious of the hurt in Alex's eyes but for the moment feeling like he'd done enough to be allowed at least a minute in his life where Alex didn't automatically come first.

Alex looked at him, lips pressed tightly together to fight the awful feeling they were on the brink of trembling. Part of him wanted nothing more than to go to Yassen and put his arms round him, to give and receive comfort, but Yassen was being uncomfortably prickly, and Alex stayed where he was.

"I'm going to bed," Alex said defeatedly, distantly conscious it had come out sounding sulky, but too exhausted to care. 

"Fine." Yassen didn't look up, and Alex gave a frustrated sigh, and banged into the bathroom.

He showered, and felt guilty about that as well, knowing it would have been fairer to let Yassen wash first. Everything seemed to be his fault, Alex thought despairingly. If it wasn't for him, Ian would never have come here, Yassen would never have been injured. Alex knew he must be in pain, and wondered miserably how much he, too, blamed Alex for how things had turned out. 

When he slipped through to the bedroom, Yassen was on the couch with his back to him, and Alex didn't speak.

As the bedroom door clicked shut, Yassen finally looked round and sighed. There'd been something holding him back from just going to Alex and kissing him as hard as he wanted to in the stunned recognition that they were both still alive. He gloomily faced the fact that he'd fucked things up from start to finish, mishandling everything to the extent that Alex probably hated him by now, and had been the reason behind Alex losing the one remaining member of his family.

Could things have been different? Yassen went over the day in his mind, and concluded that taking Alex and his uncle to a ready-laid-out torture chamber hadn't been the subtlest move he'd ever made. He realised with a wince of recognition that he'd have to go back and clean it out, and that in his current state, he'd have to ask Alex to help him.

"Fuck. _Fuck_." He banged his head repeatedly against the back of the sofa in helpless exasperation.

Pouring himself another drink, he went to shower off the blood caking his body, finding it awkward with one hand and bandages to keep dry and wishing Alex was there to help him; too proud to go and ask. 

By the time he was done, another hour had gone by. He stood in the doorway to the bedroom, looking down at Alex's sleeping form, and thinking tiredly that even if everything else went to hell, at least Alex was safe.

\--

The next morning, Yassen woke stiff and aching, to find Alex staring down at him with a hurt and incredulous expression.

"Seriously? You slept on the sofa? Are things that bad?"

Trying to muster thoughts made gluey by painkillers into some sense of order, Yassen struggled to sit up. "No, Alex, wait." 

"I'm going to work. One of us has to." Alex slammed huffily out of the front door before Yassen had a chance to explain. 

Yassen slumped back against the cushions, groaning. He was beginning to understand Alex's fondness for the word fuck.

\--

Dozing fitfully throughout the morning, Yassen roused himself sometime after midday and with some little effort managed to get dressed. He made his way down to the beach and stopped at the same cafe Alex had waited at the day before. 

He could see Alex at work on the beach below, and sat down to watch him, feeling the distance between them like an ache beneath his ribs. The afternoon slid past and still he sat watching, not really knowing why he was there, but needing to be able to see Alex, needing to know he was okay, on at least some level.

When Alex packed up for the day and headed back up to the road, Yassen saw the moment he spotted him. With a tentative smile, Alex came over and dropped into the chair opposite.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Alex fiddled with the strap of his bag. "How long have you been here?" 

"A while."

"You didn't come down?" 

"Wasn't sure you'd want to see me," Yassen said neutrally. 

Alex stared down at the table, running a fingertip through a puddle of spilled juice.

"Alex - about last night. I couldn’t sleep. I didn't want to keep you awake. That's the only reason I was on the sofa," Yassen told him quietly.

"Oh." Alex's gaze flicked up for a second to Yassen's face, then away, a slight flush blooming on his cheeks. "Oh. Okay."

Alex bit his lip. There were so many things he wanted to say, and he couldn't find the words to say any of them.

"You want a lift back?" he said instead, digging the truck keys out of his bag.

Feeling Alex was still being distinctly frosty, Yassen shook his head. "Think I'll stay here for a while." 

Alex got to his feet, with a look of frustrated anger. "Fine." He turned his back and stalked off to where his truck was parked across the road. 

Once he got there though, Alex made no move to get in. He stood there, bag at his feet, leaning against the door and fighting the hot prickle of tears stinging his eyes. How had everything gone so quickly to hell, he wondered miserably. He didn't want this, he didn't want to fight, all he wanted was for Yassen to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay.

Suddenly, Alex made up his mind. He wouldn't just walk away, he would go back over there and either force Yassen to come with him, or stay himself. Whatever it took, if he had to apologise until he was blue in the face, he wouldn't let this just slip away from them. Not if there was one single thing he could do about it.

He turned, but before he could take a step Alex found his way was blocked, and in a moment's startled recognition realised Yassen had followed him over after all.

" _Yassen._ " It was more than half a sob, and before either of them could think about it they were pressed together, Alex's arms round Yassen's neck and Yassen's good arm tight around his waist. They stood there for a long time, just clinging to each other with a ferocity that said more than any number of words.

Yassen had watched Alex walk over to the truck, watched him standing there with his head bowed, and felt suddenly if he let Alex walk away now he might never get him back. He'd followed him over, determined to say anything and everything to get him to listen, not daring to hope for a second that Alex might be thinking the same.

With every second that passed, with every shaking breath Alex gave against his neck, Yassen slowly let himself believe that things might be alright after all. He recognised the desperation in Alex's embrace because it matched his own, mirrored his fear of losing him. If Alex truly felt the same, then whatever else lay between them could surely be dealt with.

Alex finally looked up, and Yassen saw that his eyelashes were wet. Alex gave a shaky smile, still hesitant, as if afraid it might all still crumble away again. Yassen kissed him softly on the mouth.

"Let's go home," he murmured.

Alex nodded, smiling and sniffing at the same time, but looking stronger already.

"You might have to give me a hand," Yassen added, and Alex managed a quiet laugh. He helped Yassen swing himself up into the passenger seat, suspecting that even with only one good arm Yassen was probably still more formidable than he was, but recognising the gesture for what it was, the acceptance of his assistance.

Alex drove them home, and this time when they entered the flat, Yassen immediately drew him into a one-armed embrace, sighing in frustration.

"I wish I could hold you properly," Yassen muttered. "I need to get rid of this damned sling."

"If you pull your stitches open, I am not sewing you up again," Alex told him, but he was smiling, and Yassen kissed him hard just because he could.

"I'm sorry." Yassen rested his forehead against Alex's. "For everything."

Alex frowned. "It wasn't your fault. None of it was."

"Well it certainly wasn't yours." Yassen saw the shadow pass across Alex's face, and gripped him tighter. "Alex. Tell me you don't believe any of this was your fault?"

"Well - " Alex started weakly, and Yassen cut him off with a growl, kissing him again almost angrily because he didn't know what else to do.

It seemed to do the trick though, because when they came up for air, Alex started quietly laughing.

"You're mad, you know that?"

Yassen shrugged, starting to smile back. "Am I?"

"Yep." Alex pulled him closer for another kiss. "And I love you," he whispered. "So much."

"Alex." Yassen breathed his name like a prayer, kissing his cheek, his forehead, his eyelids, until Alex was laughing again. 

"I love you too," Yassen whispered back. "You know that, right? Always, and forever." 

Alex blinked away the threat of more tears, and smiled instead, hooking a finger into Yassen's belt. "How about you show me how much?"

It was Yassen's turn to laugh. "I'm not entirely sure I'm capable right now."

"I'm sure we can find a way," Alex said suggestively.

"Well. If you promise not to break me." 

They laughed again, together, sharing the moment, and the relief.

Carefully, wary of hurting him, Alex helped Yassen ease his shirt off. He'd managed to pin it across his bandaged shoulder and arm, and Alex experienced a flush of guilt at how difficult it must have been to do alone. 

Alex let his fingers rest lightly on the strapping, frowning at the dried brown line of blood showing around the bandage. "This needs changing." 

He pushed Yassen firmly into the bathroom and set about changing the dressing. Yassen watched him passively, offering no comment other than to make a plea for Alex to leave off the sling when he'd finished. 

"My arm's fine. I don't need it."

"Fine. But if I have to shoot you again to make you keep still, I will," Alex smiled, but he was still avoiding Yassen's eyes where possible. He adjusted the strapping across Yassen's shoulder, fiddling with it until he was satisfied, then let his hands fall with a small sigh. "How's that?"

Yassen immediately folded both arms around Alex and smiled. "Much better." 

Alex leaned into him, letting his own arms slip round Yassen's waist. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"What for?" Yassen let his lips brush Alex's forehead, wishing he'd look up.

"I should have done all this last night. Instead of flouncing off to bed and abandoning you."

Yassen hugged him a little tighter. "It's okay," he sighed. "You had a lot to process. And I wasn't being the easiest person to deal with."

"You had just been shot," Alex pointed out with a rueful smile. 

"And you'd just had your uncle try to kill you," Yassen reminded him. "I'm just saying. Maybe we both need to cut each other a little slack, huh?"

Alex nodded, meeting his gaze reluctantly and relieved to find Yassen was smiling. A few of the knots in his stomach untwisted a little.

"Do you think we're safe now?" Alex asked hesitantly. "I mean - _was_ he working alone, or -?"

"I think so. It certainly seemed to be a personal enough vendetta," Yassen said slowly, considering. "I think he was probably working on old favours called in and whatever resources he had left. Not with or for anyone else." 

He brushed Alex's hair back from his face with a gentle hand, cupping his cheek and holding his worried gaze, guessing Alex's thoughts. "I don't believe Scorpia exists as an entity any more. I don't think it has for a long time. I think he was just trying to scare us."

"Well it worked," Alex muttered, but he managed a resigned smile. 

Yassen smiled back, then sighed. He had a favour to ask and was wary of upsetting their fragile peace. "Alex - I hate to ask this, but - we need to go back and clean out the lighthouse," he said. 

Alex shook his head, and for a second Yassen wished he'd kept his mouth shut until Alex's next words took him completely by surprise.

"It's done."

"What?" 

Alex pulled away from him, shrugging awkwardly. "I did it first thing this morning. Cleared the place out, cleaned off the blood, sneaked the key back into the harbour office." He paused. "I cleaned out that car too, left it parked in a side street."

Yassen just stared at him, and Alex fidgeted defensively. "What?" 

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" Yassen said finally, and Alex gave a startled laugh. 

"Well, one of us had to do it," he muttered, smiling slightly despite himself. He looked up. "When did you even set that place up?" he asked. "Please tell me it's not something else you were keeping for emergencies?"

Yassen smiled a little sheepishly. "No. I did it yesterday when everyone thought I'd been drowned. I needed to stay out of sight, and you were off chasing Ian. I figured there was a chance you'd catch him, and if you did, we needed some place to put him."

"Oh." Alex nodded, looking sad again, and Yassen closed the gap between them, taking his hands.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way," he murmured. "I wish things could have been different. For you to find out he was alive, only for this to happen..."

Alex shrugged defeatedly. "It wasn't him, really, was it? At the end. Not like he was, I mean."

"They'd broken him," Yassen said softly. "No-one's ever the same after that. Not really."

Alex let Yassen draw him back into his arms, thinking distantly that there was a time when he'd come damn close to being broken himself, and that it was only Yassen's unwaveringly patient support that had pulled him through.

He felt the press of lips against his temple, and felt Yassen sigh.

"I'm sorry," Yassen murmured, misreading Alex's silence as sadness. "If it wasn't for me, none of this would ever have happened."

Alex stepped back and frowned. "Don't say that."

"It's true, isn't it?" Yassen admitted heavily. "If I hadn't shot him, you'd still be living in happy ignorance of what and who he was, and none of the hideous things that followed would have happened to you."

Alex shook his head, looking suddenly angry. "You know what? If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else. And he'd still have died, and I'd still have been pulled in, only then you wouldn't have been there to save me at the end. And I wouldn't be living in 'happy ignorance' right now, I'd be dead on a London street, or, or, bled out in a fucking plane, and I'd never have known how much I could have loved you and what's fucking happy about that?"

Yassen stared at him, and then bit back a smile. Alex scowled.

"Shut up!"

"I didn't say anything," Yassen said mildly.

"You're laughing at me, you bastard."

"No I'm not," Yassen protested, laughing even as he lied.

"I hate you." Alex threw himself back into Yassen's arms and sighed.

"No you don't." Yassen kissed him on the head, and Alex hid a smile against his shoulder. 

"No, I don't." He let his hands slide down Yassen's back until they were resting on his arse, and then pinched it for good measure. "I should though."

"Since when have you ever done what you should?"

"Fair point," Alex smiled, feeling faintly dizzy as the tension of the last few days finally drained away. He turned his head, seeking out Yassen's mouth with his own, and kissed him with a slow, deliberate intensity until they could feel each other getting hard.

"I think I should warn you," Yassen murmured, "if only for the sake of my stitches, that I am seriously considering picking you up and carrying you into the bedroom right now."

Alex smiled against his lips, amused. "Maybe I should carry you?" he suggested with a smirk.

"Like hell." 

Alex laughed, and pulled back long enough to turn and rifle in the bathroom cabinet for an unopened bottle of lube. He tucked it into Yassen's waistband with a suggestive quirk of his eyebrow, making Yassen laugh and take his hand.

"Come on. Before I embarrass myself right here." He towed Alex, unresisting, into the bedroom.

Despite their words, for a long time they lay just kissing, offering both comfort and quiet apology. Physically and mentally battered by the last few days, it was a chance to gather themselves, to remind themselves of what they had, and to reassure each other that nothing had changed.

Gradually though, their kisses became more demanding, and Yassen tried to pin Alex to the bed, only to hiss with pain when he tried to move his left arm without thinking.

Alex frowned, concerned and exasperated all at once. He sat up and pushed Yassen gently but firmly down onto his back. 

"Maybe we shouldn't be trying this yet?"

"I'm fine!" 

"You are not fine." Alex smiled down at him. "Here. Let me." He let his fingers trail teasingly over Yassen's groin, before carefully unzipping his jeans.

Yassen let his head fall back against the pillow with a quiet groan, as Alex worked his jeans and underwear down and off. He watched appreciatively from beneath heavy-lidded eyes as Alex quickly stripped off his own clothes and lay back down beside him.

"Better?" Alex smiled, kissing him again and wriggling closer so he could push his erection lazily against Yassen's hip.

Making noises of approval, Yassen drew him back for another kiss, hooking a leg over Alex's and pulling him on top of him.

Alex settled himself more comfortably, taking care to keep his weight off Yassen's injured shoulder and letting his cock slide against the hard length of Yassen's. Alex rolled his hips, rubbing up against him, enjoying the soft friction, but eager for something more.

He reached out to where he'd left the little bottle of lube, and squeezed some out into his hand, shuffling back until he was sitting astride Yassen's thighs. Alex caught his eye and smiled, before bending over to drop a kiss onto the tip of Yassen's cock, making him laugh.

Alex wrapped his hand around him, working the palmful of lube into Yassen's stiff shaft, smirking at the sight of the head sliding through the circle of his fingers. He squeezed out more lube, warming it on his skin for a moment before stroking it in, taking his time and making Yassen writhe slightly beneath him.

"Good?" Alex whispered, still working him with gentle fingers, enjoying the feel of the firm, warm flesh under his hand.

"Mmmn." Yassen smiled up at him, reaching out to return the favour. Alex caught his hand though, and grinned.

"Patience," Alex laughed. He guided Yassen's hand to his own cock instead, and nodded when Yassen took hold of himself, looking enquiring. "Hold still." Alex moved forwards, kneeling up and positioning himself carefully over Yassen's straining erection. 

Thighs tensed with the effort, Alex lowered himself slowly onto Yassen's cock, spreading himself with both hands and biting his lip as he felt the thick length push up inside him. Eyes wide, Alex eased himself down until he was sitting snugly against Yassen's groin, cock entirely buried in Alex's body.

"Fuck." Alex let out a shuddering breath, and Yassen realised he'd been holding his, too.

"You okay?" he murmured, and Alex nodded immediately, giving him a slightly wild grin. 

"God that feels good," Alex breathed, eyelids fluttering half closed as he started to move, lifting himself up and sinking back down, only an inch or so at first, getting used to the feeling of being so full. 

As he relaxed into it, Alex started moving faster, fucking himself on Yassen's cock now, harder and deeper, groaning out loud as he rode him. 

Yassen reached out and took Alex's bouncing dick into his hand, starting to stroke him roughly, in time with the rise and fall of Alex's thighs. This time Alex didn't protest, just briefly laid his fingers over Yassen's to indicate he should pump him harder.

He did as Alex wanted, squeezing and jerking him almost painfully quickly, feeling Alex's hot body clenching around his cock in responding arousal. They were both panting with the effort now, Alex's legs starting to shake as he lifted himself up, moaning helplessly as he slammed down again and again, shamelessly glorying in the way it made him feel.

Alex was the first to come, wrung out from the feeling of Yassen inside him and unable to hang on any longer. He came hard and loudly, spurting his release over Yassen's chest in thick stripes, his cock throbbing in Yassen's grip. The feeling of Alex's spasming body was enough to finish Yassen too, and moments later Alex felt the hot rush of his climax deep inside him. 

Spent, Alex clambered awkwardly off and collapsed at Yassen's side, feeling deliciously wet and sore. Yassen kissed him, folding him into his arms and starting to laugh.

"Now what?" Alex raised his head, smiling fuzzily.

"You just came all over my bandages," Yassen pointed out. "I'm not sure that's medically recommended."

"Oh - shut up." Alex dissolved into giggles, but he wiped them both off as best he could before pulling the duvet over them and lying down again, resting his head on Yassen's chest. Yassen threaded his fingers into Alex's tangled hair and held him there, the weight of his hand a comforting pressure against the back of Alex's head.

Alex gave a sleepy sigh of contentment that turned into a yawn halfway through. He nestled into Yassen's side, closing his eyes.

Yassen lay quietly, listening to Alex's breathing even out into sleep, and trying to tune out the dull ache in his shoulder. He wondered if they really were as safe as he'd promised. While he had little doubt Ian had been working alone, the fact he'd found them at all meant they weren't as safe as he'd imagined, and Ian would inevitably have left a trail that others could follow. 

He frowned, unconsciously pulling Alex more snugly against him, and wondering what to do for the best. Part of him still thought leaving entirely was the most sensible option and if it had been just him he wouldn't have hesitated. But Alex, he knew, would argue for staying. 

Still. It had been a long time. Was it too much to hope, that the rest of the world had forgotten about them?

"It'll be okay."

Yassen found Alex blinking up at him, realised guiltily his grip had become tight enough to wake him. "What will?"

"Whatever it is you're worrying about." Alex smiled, and curled his arm over Yassen's stomach, settling himself more comfortably against him. 

"If I'd known getting laid was all you needed for unwarranted optimism, I'd have taken steps earlier," Yassen declared, and Alex pinched him under the covers.

"I'm just saying. You were right. We made it. Together." Alex yawned, making Yassen reflexively follow suit. 

"Always." Yassen kissed him with sleepy affection, before reaching over to turn out the light. 

The world might have thrown a lot of shit at them, but it had also thrown them each other, and maybe when it came right down to it, that was all they needed. Finally letting himself relax into sleep, Yassen reflected that Alex was right. Whatever came their way, whatever they still had to face, they would do what needed to be done. And they would do it together.

\--


End file.
